Unlike other men, Drum Macomber never aspired to be Santa Claus. He didn’t dress up for his three kids when they were growing up, and his facial hair experiments over the years were never about Yuletide glee.

He worked for decades in El Cajon’s transportation department, and he assumed he’d spend his retirement traveling.

But then, once upon a time, in the winter of 2002, Macomber was volunteering for a toy drive when its Santa didn’t show up. Macomber doesn’t remember why that Santa bailed. All he knows is how the story ended. Or began.

“I got the short straw to wear the suit,” Macomber said. (There were no actual straws, he clarified, but “I kind of looked like the one who would fit the suit.”)

He was drafted to do another event that night, and he’s been Santa ever since.

In many ways, he’s the perfect man for the job. He has a fine red suit and big black boots. He has a substantial laugh and a belly to match.

But this Santa also has an edge — he used to ride a Harley, for one.

Through those round Santa glasses, Macomber has seen some kids grow up, visiting their family parties year after year. Others he speaks with for a scant minute at frenzied holiday festival photo booths before they disappear into the crowds forever.

The gifts he gives go beyond promises of firetrucks and stuffed animals. He lends an ear, an occasional word of wisdom and two arms they can burrow themselves into for a satisfying hug, even if nothing else is certain.

But it’s hard to say who’s happier, Santa or the children. Because the children give him back something just as miraculous as a jolly bearded man squeezing through a chimney: a fleeting return to innocence.

One of his favorite places is St. Madeleine Sophie’s Center, which supports adults with developmental challenges. “I’m a rock star there. I get mobbed. It’s just pandemonium,” he said. He also does special visits to military families. “If they miss Christmas, I’ll go any time.”